


Remember Me

by Dystopian_Dramaqueen



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV), The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
Genre: Angst, Consensual Sex, Emotional pain, F/M, Longing, Reunion Sex, stoicism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 20:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dystopian_Dramaqueen/pseuds/Dystopian_Dramaqueen
Summary: Set a month after the season 2 finale.The Waterford household is in disrepair.June contacts Nick to let him know she is still in Gilead and request a meeting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Longing. Angst. Hope.

**Nick**

I see June through the glass. Holding Holly. My heart stops. She’s leaving. This is it. This is goodbye. She looks down at me. Ice grips my chest. I nod to her. Run June. Get the fuck out of here. It’s best for everyone. I hear her voice behind me. “Better is never better for everyone.” We’re at the Boston Globe. I turn to hold her. But she is made of smoke and vanishes in my arms.

 

I sit up in bed. Heart pounding. Covered in sweat. Outside my window the sky is grey. 5am. I wipe my face. Slow my breathing. Try to clear my mind. But the feeling lingers as the images fade. Some urgent message begging to be acknowledged. I push it down. Whatever the dream was trying to tell me. I need a cigarette. I pull on some pants and my winter coat. Sit on the stairs outside. Hand tremor gets better after a few deep drags. Gotta quit these fucking things.

 

Serena’s garden is dying. She never comes out here anymore. Rita says she hasn’t left her room in weeks. The rose beds are choked with weeds, paths overgrown. Everything yellow and brown. Even the plants in the greenhouse are dead.  It’s fitting that the outside of the house matches the rest of us. We’re all wilting. Dying.

 

Fred lost it after June left. I think he knows his days are numbered. He’s drinking day and night now. Like Joshua did near the end. On some level I get it. Self medicating to avoid feeling anything. To escape the pain. Sometimes I wish I had a sedative, a way to numb out.

 

Maybe I’ll put in for a transfer. Too many memories here. Eden’s yellow curtains. June wrapped in my bedsheets. I’m surrounded by ghosts. Or maybe I’m the ghost. Haunting this place.

 

I have nothing but time now. Which is the last thing I want. I keep myself on a schedule to stay busy. Like I did in the military. Reading. Working out. Repairing things around the property.

 

My only scheduled responsibility is driving Fred to Jezebel’s every night at 5, and driving him home in the morning. I don’t have to stay on site, but I do. I have nowhere else to be. I usually crash in the staff dorm. Catch a nap, read or play cards with the other drivers. Mostly keep to myself.

 

Fred gets a different girl every night. He’s disgusting. You’d think he had a punch card. But it’s just for show. The girls say he just passes out when they get to the room. I always check in with them. Tell them to come get me if he gets aggressive. They never do. It’s too bad. I wish he’d give me a reason to beat him to death. Or shoot him. Or both. That would feel good.

 

I’m in the dorm reading when someone knocks on the door. I sit up, put the book on the bed. It’s Beth.

 

“Hey stranger.” She says. “Someone’s trying to get something to you. Do you trust your Martha?”

 

“Yeah, Rita’s cool.”

 

“Ok. Should be there when you get home.”

 

“Do you know who it’s from? What it is?”

 

“No idea.”

 

“Ok.” I turn back to my paperback. “Thanks Beth.”

 

I feel her lingering in the doorway. I look up.

 

“Whats up?”

 

“...You want to... hang out?” She holds up a bottle of red wine and raises an eyebrow.

 

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I’m not... myself lately.”

 

She nods.

 

“I get it. The wife execution thing. I’m so sorry about that.”

 

_My vision blurs. I see the pool. Shit. I close my eyes and force a deep breath. Try to keep my face still. Try to block out the images. I see her tiny body struggling for air. Reaching for Issac. Ripples on the surface growing still as they stop struggling. I bite my lip hard and try to focus on that instead. It doesn’t work. I feel the bleachers under me. Her mother is screaming. If I’d just played along and been nicer to her she’d be alive. All she wanted was my friendship. If I’d given them more of a head start….told Fred I’d look for them myself….they’d still be alive. It always ends in this hellish guilt spiral. My fault. Dead because of me. On repeat. I can’t find my way out of it yet. So I keep it buried. Try not to think about it. Maybe someday I can dig it up and unpack it. Grieve it. Find peace. But for now I need to pretend it’s not there. I send it back down into the darkness._

 

And she’s wrong. It’s not because of Eden. It’s June. I’m in love with someone I will never see again. I found the love of my life and she is gone forever. A second wave of despair rises, but I push it down before it takes over. I’m a pro at suppressing that particular misery.

 

I sigh, look at Beth and nod. The less she knows the better.

 

She looks worried. That’s the same look Rita’s been giving me lately. She hugs me and tells me she’s here for me anytime.

 

“And get your skinny ass in the kitchen so I can fatten you up before you go.”

 

She looks me in the eye and says with a serious face:

 

“Blessed be the carbs Guardian Blaine. Under his (apple) Pie.”

 

Pulls the door shut behind her. She’s a good friend.

 

The next morning I drape Fred’s arm over my shoulders and walk him from the car to the sitting room. He mutters to himself about obedience. He sleeps on the couch these days. I take his shoes off and throw a blanket over him. A friend would tell him to drink less. But hey if he wants to kill himself with booze that’s fine by me. Happy to facilitate. Speaking of which, he’s running low on Bourbon. I’ll trade for more tomorrow.

 

I get back to my apartment. There is a letter on my table. And a plate of cookies. Thanks Rita. I think about locking the door but no one comes up here anymore. I lay on my bed. Unfold the paper. It’s unsigned. Small handwriting. Neat. Feminine.

 

_“I’m going to leave out any details that they could use to identify or locate us._

_I don’t know how many people will read this or if it will even get to you._

_Holly made it out. My friend from the red center has her own place now._

_She’s great with kids. She’ll take care of her like she is her own.”_

My eyes unfocus as I realize what I’m holding. What this means. Holly. I’ve only heard that name once. Is this from June? She’s still nearby? That is the best and worst thing possible.

_“I’m safe. Less than 30 minutes away. I have transportation._

_Pick a time and place to meet. Give me week’s notice at least._

_You’ll need to drop me off at the same place for pick up 48 hours later._

_We can make a definitive plan._ _We need to focus on Hannah and each other now._

 _J_ _ust send a letter back through the same chain that got this to you._

_At the end of each day I lie in bed and rest my hands on my belly._

_Where Holly was._

_I_ _miss feeling her safe inside me._

_Protecting her from the world._

_Her little kicks reminding me of the miracle that we made._

_When no one else could, we did._

_Our bodies, our love did that.”_

My throat tightens. I pause and take a deep breath. I miss them so much. I’m so glad I got to hold her.

_“After I finish remembering Holly-_

_Her new baby smell,_ _her tiny fists around my finger-_

_My fingers wander lower._

_Over my soft hair, down to my thighs._

_Where you used to kiss me.”_

I feel the hair standing up on my neck, my heart beating faster. I swallow hard and keep reading.

_“It sucks. I hate it._

_Because I don’t want to touch myself._

_I_ _t’s a shitty substitute. I_ _t doesn’t even feel good._

_I want it to be you touching me._

_But this is the only way I can activate the memories._

_The only way I can see you._

_I touch myself and my body remembers you._

_I can see your apartment._

_The golden lamps casting shadows like candles in a cave._

_I remember your smell. Your dark eyes and hair._

_I_ _feel your hips between my legs._

 _How we fit together perfectly, l_ _ike our bodies were designed to be together._

_I remember the taste of your mouth, the taste of your sweat._

_Your creaky headboard. Your stubble on my cheek. Your breath in my ear._

_The sound you make right before you come._

_Watching your chest rise and fall while you sleep._

_Your warm tan skin. Your heartbeat in my ear._

_I remember you. My body remembers you._

_And I’ll keep you alive this way in my mind._

_I’ll visit you every day to keep the memories fresh._

_I’ll dream you every night until you are in my arms again._

_Please know it is everything._

_To have had this love with you”_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**June**

 

Fuck. It’s been over a week and I haven’t heard back. Maybe he never got it.  Fuck. I’m so stupid. How many people saw it? What if one of them was an eye? Maybe the eyes are poring over it right now, figuring out my location. Closing in on me. Or worse, maybe he read it and thought it was stupid. Too mushy. Maybe he’s glad I’m gone.

 

I have too much time and nothing to do but wait. Alone in this empty room. I should be using this time to plan or write- write my story down. Record it somehow. But I’m just wasting my time worrying. My brain is mush.

 

I’m not good at waiting. We got so spoiled with the internet. So impatient. I haven’t waited on a letter since middle school. Back before email. Waiting on letters from my mom at camp. Passing notes in class. When you have no choice it can be fun. Each day dreaming of the responses you’ll get. None as rewarding as what you actually find inside. Because the words, the thoughts come from someone you love. And you get a little dose of their tone, their thoughts- a little taste of them. So precious. Because of the separation. Because of the waiting.

I hear boots on the stairs. Fuck. Please God if it’s the eyes. Make it painless. I don’t want pain.

 

It’s the Martha. She hands me a package wrapped in brown paper. I thank her and close the door. I’m shaking. I sit against the wall. Remove the twine. Tear the paper open. It’s a grey Martha’s uniform. A letter laid on top. My heart races. I open it slowly. Boys handwriting. Neater than most.

 

_“Never written one of these before._

_Just warning you._

_I’m not a writer like you. Not good with words._

_I_ _’m just going to pretend you can hear me._

_Thanks for getting Holly out._

_You should have gone too._

_WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING??!!!_

_Please thank your friend for helping our little girl._

_We’ll meet up with her as soon as we can._

_I’ve got a plan sketched out._

_It’ll work if we’re careful._

_I think about you all the time._

_Everything reminds me of you._

_Thinking about you feels so good._

_Until I open my eyes and you’re not here._

_Since you left I’ve felt like a wounded animal._

_Waiting to die._

_Waiting for the pain to stop._

_But then I got your letter._

_I’ve read it at least twenty times._

_I can’t believe you’re still here._

_I’m so scared for you._

_But knowing you’re nearby-_

_It’s something to hold on to._

_I have to see you._

_I’m a mess._

_I’m barely holding it together._

_Everything is broken and fucked up and horrible._

_I miss you so much I can’t stand it._

_The only relief is sleep but every night I dream about you being taken from me._

_It’s a waking nightmare._

_First Saturday of next month._

_Meet me where you wore a gold sequined dress._

_At 4am. In the cargo bay._

_If anyone sees you ask for Beth._

_Wear what’s in the package._

_I know a place we can go for a couple days._

_I wish you were here._

_My soft, sweet, perfect June._

_I miss you so much._

_Stay safe.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Nick**

 

4am arrives. A buddy will cover for me. Driving Fred here and back for the next 2 days. I doubt he’ll even notice I’m gone.

 

I get the car and pull into the cargo bay of Jezebel’s. June slips out of the shadows and into the passenger seat and we start driving. Dressed in Rita’s uniform. It’s still dark out. No other cars on the street. We get right to business. We review the options for escape. Turns out we’re thinking the same thing. I think that’s a good sign. We’ve both had weeks to plan and came up with the same idea. We ride in silence a bit longer. We decide to hammer out the details later.

 

She looks out the window. Leg bouncing. Picking at her fingernails. She’s obviously uncomfortable.

 

“Want me to turn the radio on?” She shakes her head.

 

“Too hot? Too cold?”

 

“No.”

 

We drive in silence. We are still about 20 minutes away from the safehouse. The horizon is starting to glow with pink and yellow. Her hand moves to my thigh. I reach my hand down and hold hers.

 

She pulls her hand free from mine. Places it again on my thigh. We continue driving. Her hand slides up my leg slowly. I was trying to keep it platonic until we got to the cabin. Keep the floodgates shut until we had some privacy. No sense starting fires you can’t put out.

 

“Hey, hold on. We’re almost there.” I put her hand back on her lap. “Gotta concentrate on the road. Our turn is coming up.”

 

She shakes her head. “I can’t wait anymore. All I do is wait. I’m done waiting. I need to touch you. I can’t be this close and not touch you. I’m sorry Nick. I’m not waiting anymore. I can’t.”

 

I look over. Her eyes are locked on mine.

 

I look back at the road. It’s embarrassing how quickly, automatically my body responds to her touch. She feels it. Her fingers trace the border of my swollen cock. Her lips curl into a smile.

 

“June we can’t do this here. I’m driving. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to distract the driver?”

 

She raises an eyebrow. Uses her palm to stroke my length. It’s torture not to be able to touch her back. Rip her clothes off and fuck some sense into her.

 

“June seriously. We can’t just pull over and fuck on the side of the road. It’s not safe here. Wait til we get to the cabin.”

 

“We’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s 5am. I don’t see anyone, do you?”

 

“June. Stop.”

 

“No, Guardian Blaine. Your commands are no good here.” Her confidence increasing with every passing second. I am not going to win this one.

 

She unzips me and pulls me free, she surrounds me with her hand. Starts rhythmically stroking me.

 

I don’t want her to stop. My legs go weak. Blood rushing to her touch. I am going to wreck the car for sure.

 

“I’m serious. Stop. We’re going to get in a fucking accident.”

 

I do not want to die in fucking Gilead. That is not the way this story ends. Some animal part of my brain takes over. I know these estates are all 100 acres or more. 10 miles apart on average. We are about half way between two properties. Thick wooded area. The patrols go around once an hour on the hour in this district. It’s ten after five.

 

I pull off on a gravel hunting road. Shouldn’t be visible from the highway. It’s too dark to see anything anyway. We’ll have to be fast.

 

_As the car comes to a stop we are kissing. She has already unbuckled us and climbed onto to my lap. We move quickly. I lift her skirts. She’s undoing my belt. The desire to connect our bodies is urgent. I need her bare skin on mine. I slide my pants down to mid thigh, move her panties to the side. She is so wet, so ready. She needs me too. She settles onto me, moaning with pleasure. She rides me fast and hard with her eyes closed. I focus on kissing her. She starts to moan louder. She’s close. I thrust up into her, pulling her hips into me. I feel her body tremble as she climaxes, hands pulling my hair. I let myself go with her. Stop fighting the waves. Let them overtake me. We open our eyes. She smiles and kisses me. She slides back to her seat. Buckles in. I pull my pants up, buckle my belt. Wipe the fog off the windows._

 

“Satisfied?” I ask.

 

“For now.” She says, touching my leg.

 

“Hands. To. Yourself.”

 

She withdraws her hand in silence.

 

I throw the car in reverse. One orgasm only wets her appetite. She’ll want to go again soon. What we just did was dumb and reckless. We need to be more careful. I’ve had nothing to lose since she left. I’ve gotten used to being careless.

 

She rolls the window down. Cold air rushes in. She looks over at me. Smiles. Blue eyes shining. Cheeks flushed. Hair messed up. So fucking beautiful. Fearless and brave. Freedom suits her. This is June. She was never meant to be a slave. My throat tightens as the horrors of the past try to come into my mind. Fred. The ceremony. Me one of the jailors. I push it down.

 

Clear your mind. She’s here now. Be here now. She’s not gone. It’s not over. This is just the beginning. We will get out of here. We can start over and make it right.

 

We pull down the gravel drive, headlights off. No lights on inside the cabin. I keep the car running, find the key hidden in the bird house as promised. I pull out my gun. Check behind the house, unlock the door, check the rooms, closets, under the beds. No one here. I walk around and open her door. We go inside, I lock the door behind us.

 

_She takes my hand and puts it between her legs. Sure. At least we’re indoors this time. I lift her dress and use my fingers to fuck her. Thumb on her clit, fingers inside. Against the door. Kissing her neck. Her legs go weak. She comes. I carry her to the couch. Slide her panties off. I kneel in front of her and put her legs over my shoulders. Her legs are shaking. I kiss her thighs. She murmurs my name and grips my hair. I go slow, drawing it out. Pausing when she gets too close. She begs me. I ignore her. Like she ignored me in the car. Savoring the taste of her. She grabs my shirt, pulls me up on top of her, kissing me. Desperate. I rest on my elbows- let her fumble with my belt. I could help but I love seeing her lose it like this. Her urgent noises drive me crazy. She slides my pants down to mid thigh again. Pulls my hips into her. I slide inside. So wet. We finish in missionary. It doesn’t take long. We lie there on the couch panting. I kick my boots and pants the rest of the way off. We pull a blanket over us as our bodies cool. Cold in here. Breath making clouds in the morning light. Fingers tracing each other. It’s like no time has passed._

 

“That’s three for you. You good now?” I smile. I know she’s not. I just want to hear it.

 

“Not even close.” She looks at me seriously. “We have a lot of catching up to do. We are WAY behind schedule.”

 

I smile. It feels weird. I don’t think I’ve smiled once since she left.  

 

“I’m good with that. As long as we get water breaks this time.”

 

“Deal.”

 

We break out some protein bars and bottled water. Maps. We go over the details. When. Where. Who. We try to keep it really simple. We try to think through every way it could go wrong. All the what-if’s. Worst case scenarios. But I think it’s going to work. The problem is it won’t be for 6 months. And we won’t get another chance like this before then. When that realization becomes clear- the humor dries up. The air gets thin. A weight settles over us.


	4. Chapter 4

**June**

 

I wake up. On a pillow, not Nick. Bummer. Sun’s up. Bright. Must be 10. I see supplies organized on the table. He’s been up for awhile. Shower running. I walk in. Air thick with steam. His back muscles rippling as he washes his hair and face.

 

I slip out of my clothes. Open the glass door- slide in behind him. Way too hot. His body. The water too. I touch his shoulders. He turns around kisses me. Slow and deep. Hands on my face. He's trying to savor this. Memorize me. Like I did with him. I pull back. His eyes are red. Swollen. He’s looking at me like I’m already gone. I realize he’s saying goodbye. It’s too sad for words.

 

We spend the day finishing our plans. 6 months. He’ll pick up Hannah. He’ll come into hiding with me. We’ll make our way north one safe house at a time. Reconnect with Holly. Start over. We memorize the details. We will jot them down in code when we get home. Can’t chance it now in case we’re stopped on the way home. The evening is somber. We eat and climb into bed fully dressed and hold each other in silence. Neither in a mood to make love.

 

I wake up on my Nick Pillow. Much better. Pitch black. Middle of the night. He’s definitely awake. We both pretend we aren’t. Because today we leave. If we get up it’s real. 6 months is a long fucking time. And that will be it. We’ll run. We’ll either make it out or die horrible deaths. But we’ll be together. That’s something to hold on to. He squeezes me. He knows I’m awake. I nestle closer. I can almost block out the worries if I just focus on his heartbeat. His watch alarm goes off. Shit.

 

We straighten the cabin exactly as it was. Put the key back in the bird house. Drive back to Jezebel’s in silence. Some deep childish part of my mind wailing helplessly. He pulls into the loading dock. My ride is waiting. He puts the car in park. Looks over at me. Eyes sunken. Dark. He looks physically ill. Like I feel.

 

I don’t know if there is a word for this kind of pain. Invisible to others. No outward bruises or scars. Burning you alive. Eating you from the inside. We both have the sickness. He is my cure. I’m his antidote. And we are leaving each other again.

 

Last time there was no choice. I had to get Holly out. But this feels like needless torment. Can’t we just throw it in drive and go out guns blazing? Bonnie and Clyde it? No. We can’t. We have to be smart. We have a child now. Holly needs us to be careful.

 

There’s nothing to say. I open the passenger door. He grabs my hand.

“Be careful.”  

I nod. He squeezes my hand. Trying to decide if he should say the next part.

“Don’t forget me.” His voice breaks. “Please.” He whispers. “I just got you back. I can’t lose you again.”

I squeeze his hand. No words come to me. His plea hangs in the air.

I feel my heart breaking. I need to keep my shit together. I don’t want him to remember me a blubbery blotchy faced mess. I force a smile. Like I did with Hannah in the snow.  

“It’s just 6 months. We got this. It’s still better than it was.”

He nods.

“I love you.” I say.

He smiles as a tear runs down his cheek. His lip trembles and he grits his teeth. His eyes close tight.

He nods and whispers “I love you too.”

I squeeze his hand, then let it go.

My heart screams brokenly.

I get in the waiting car. As we drive off the last thing I see is his head in his hands. Shoulders shaking violently.

My fingers trace my lips. I’ll remember you.  

 

 


End file.
